Arion watched her as he spoke, and she became aware of how intently he was studying her face, cataloging every small reaction. The weight of his attention madeher pulse quicken, a flush creeping up her neck. Something shifted in his expression, a deepening of that raw quality she'd heard in his voice, mixed with what looked like wonder.
He stepped closer, closing the already small distance between them. His hand slipped from her jaw to cradle the back of her neck, fingers threading gently through her hair. The touch was warm, steady, and she could feel the slight tremor in his fingers that betrayed his own nervousness.
"I thought I'd never see you again," he murmured, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “I thought I'd lost any chance to..." He paused, his eyes dropping to her lips before meeting her gaze again. "That I’d never get another chance to show you that there's more to this realm than darkness and cruelty. That you deserve gentleness. Choice."
Briar’s heart was racing now, and she knew he could probably feel her pulse where his thumb rested against the side of her neck. The warmth in her chest stirred, reaching toward him with curious recognition.
"Arion," she breathed, though she wasn't sure if it was meant to encourage or warn.
He leaned in slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away, to refuse. His forehead rested against hers for a moment, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, "and I will."
She didn't.
His lips met hers with a gentleness that made her chest ache. The warmth beneath her ribs stirred fully awake now, reaching toward him with the same recognition it showed for Eliam, perhaps softer but essentially the same. The similarity should have disturbed her more than it did.
Arion's kiss was everything Eliam's weren't—careful, sweet, asking rather than taking. His hand cupped her face like she was something precious, breakable. She could disappear into this softness, this tenderness that asked nothing of her but what she wanted to give. The Star Court prince who offered her choices instead of commands, freedom instead of chains.
I stopped him.
Thaine's words crashed through her mind, sharp as cold water. Eliam had wanted to come. Had been ready to abandon politics and appearances to find her.
She pulled back, breathless, her lips still tingling from the kiss. Arion's hand remained on her face, thumb stroking her cheek with concern.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately, though his eyes suggested he'd felt her initial response, the way she'd leaned into him before pulling away.
"No, it's not—" She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to find words that wouldn't hurt him. "I'm just tired. Overwhelmed. Everything that's happened, everything I've learned... it's a lot to process."
Understanding flickered across his features, though she could see he wanted to say more, do more. Instead, he stepped back, giving her space.
"Of course. You should rest." He gestured toward the corridor. "May I walk you to your room?"
She nodded, grateful for the excuse to move, to not stand in this alcove where the ghost of his kiss still lingered. They walked in comfortable silence, Arion matching her pace, careful not to crowd her.
At her door, he paused. "Briar." She looked up at him, and his expression was earnest, almost urgent. "No one here would think less of you for the choices you made to survive. Whatever you decided then, whatever you decide now, you're not alone."
The words should have been comforting. Instead, they highlighted the fundamental difference between them. Arion offered absolution for survival choices, but she hadn't just been surviving at the end. She'd been choosing, wanting, staying.
She nodded, unable to trust her voice, and slipped into her room. The door closed with a soft click, and she leaned against it, eyes closed. The warmth in her chest pulsed, pulled in two directions at once, and she wondered if it was possible to be torn in half by wanting incompatible things.
Outside her window, the afternoon sun hung high, indifferent to her turmoil. Time moved steadily forward, counting down to the moment when the hunt would end and she would have to choose: the prince who offered her peace, or the cruel king who'd cast her out but haunted her still.
She moved to the bed, sitting on its edge, trying to reconcile the gentle pressure of Arion's lips with the memory of Eliam's demanding mouth. Different approaches to the same end, both wanted her, both pulled at that warmth in her chest with eerily similar resonance.
But want wasn't the same as value.
Briar rose, feeling restless, and made her way to the window, pressing her palms against the cool glass. The gardens spread below, orderly and beautiful, everything in its proper place, just as it had been the last time she was here. Nothing like the wild tangle of the Forest Court, where beauty and danger intertwined until you couldn't separate them.
Her reflection stared back at her from the glass, clean, healed, dressed in Star colors clothes. She looked like she belonged here. But looking the part and feeling it were different things entirely.
She closed her eyes and sighed. Her mind felt fractured, pulled between impossible choices. Stay in the Star Court where everything was soft edges and careful kindness. Return to the Forest Court where cruelty and passion tangled into something she still didn't fully understand.
Or leave them both behind. Find her own path.
But even as she thought it, she knew that wasn't truly an option. The warmth in her chest wouldn't let her forget either of them, and now there was Karse, somewhere out there, who had claimed her as his property.
There was no clean escape from the web she'd become tangled in.
